Capital Offense
by Canadagirl52
Summary: When a Capital Meeting turns into a hostage situation, it's up to Agent Gibb's NCIS team to get all the capitals out alive. If only they knew just who they were saving...
1. Prologue

**Alright! I usually like to have a story finished before I start posting chapters to minimize the wait, but people have been looking forward to this, so I'm posting the prologue so that I can give those people SOMETHING.**

**That said, welcome to _Capital Offense_! I actually started this right after _Separation_, but then I didn't like it and started rewriting everything but the prologue. **

**Hope you enjoy! Also, I put up a oneshot about my OC for Washington D.C., as well as a little oneshot/drabble that has ParisXLondon fluff. And I'm beta reading a story called _Forgotten Again! Dude What's Wrong?_, by Quinn Fiberoptic. I suggest you check it out, along with _Ask the Capitals_.**

**Disclaimer: _Hetalia-Axis Powers_ and _NCIS_ belong to their respective owners.**

Another Capital Meeting was just about to get underway. G.W. Jones stood at the head of the conference table, taking attendance.

"…and judging by the amount of hate and tension in the air, I'm assuming Athens and Ankara are here." he said, glancing up from the list briefly. Sure enough, Iris Karpusi and Leyla Adnan were glaring at each other (thankfully, it was from opposite ends of the table).

"…Berlin."

"Here!" Ingrid and Hans Beillschmidt chorused. Everyone quickly covered their ears in preparation for a loud, shrill "_KAWAII_!"

"You know what?" G.W. said. "I say we forget about the alphabet and put Tokyo after Berlin, since we _know_ she's here after they're called." Sakura Honda stuck out her tongue at him as he continued. "…Bern."

"I am here," Bernie Zwingli said shortly. "As is Vaduz." Next to him, little Liesl Zwingli clutched at his hand.

"Another case where the alphabet should be ignored…"

After G.W. had gone through the (long) attendance list, he clapped his hands and grinned. "Well everyone, welcome to Washington D.C. for yet another meeting! Did you guys get here okay?"

"_Bruder_'s guns got confiscated in the airport." Liesl said softly.

"Huh? Dude, I thought you had special clearance."

"Not to start shooting at _Papa_ in the middle of the airport." Pierre Bonnefoy said.

"_Vati_ does it all the time," Bernie defended.

"_After_ he does something!"

"Alright, enough!" G.W. interjected. "Pierre, we all know your dad was probably going to do something sooner or later. Bernie, I'll get your guns back after the meeting-"

_BANG_!

A gunshot sounded outside the doors to the conference room, eliciting a "Kyah!" from Sakura. More followed it before the doors burst open.

"Nobody move!"

*Cue _NCIS_ theme*

**Okay, that's it for the prologue. If it seems like G.W. skipped some names in roll call…just pretend he read them, okay?**

**Please review!**

**Translations:**

**Kawaii-cute**

**Bruder-brother**

**Vati-dad**


	2. Chapter 1

**Alright, chapter 1! Please note readers, the rest will probably not come so quickly. I have a basic idea up to a certain point, and after that I'm a little stuck. But I won't give up!**

**I'm going to start trying to respond to anonymous reviews for my chaptered stories in the Author's Note at the beginning.**

**Don'tDreamItBeIt-I'm so glad you like the idea! You're right, it would make more sense for the capitals to be in this situation. I'm so happy you like the idea, and I promise that more's coming!**

**Without further ado, chapter 2! (I'm a poet and I don't even know it ^^)**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and _NCIS_ aren't mine.**

The car finally came to a stop, and Special Agent Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo scrambled out. As he resisted the urge to drop to his knees and kiss the ground, Tony wondered for perhaps the millionth time why they kept letting Ziva drive. Said agent stepped out of the driver's side, looking rather amused at her coworker's predicament.

As he emerged from another car, Special Agent Tim McGee wondered, not for the first time, who he would prefer to ride with; Ziva, or their boss, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who was at that moment shutting the driver's door.

The building they had pulled up to was in chaos. Hundreds of panicky teenagers were crowded in front of it, many being clutched by an adult with such a strong resemblance to them that the agents guessed they were their parents. The police were trying to take statements, but it was obviously going to take a while.

"Whoah," Tony said. "I wasn't expecting this."

"Definitely not." McGee agreed.

"Quit gawking you two," Gibbs said. "And the three of you, start getting statements. I want to know who's inside still." He walked to the crowd as the three agents chorused "On it, Boss."

Gibbs himself went in and spoke to an officer, getting the low-down. Every teenager was the child of a diplomat from their respective home countries. While their parents were in meetings, they held their own to socialize. When armed men burst in on their meeting, a lot of them had panicked and run.

Nodding to the officer, Gibbs went to collect statements. His eyes settled on a twelve-year-old blond boy in a sailor suit, who was trying to comfort a little blond girl with her hair in two braids wearing an old-fashioned dress. He headed over to them.

The boy looked up as the silver-haired man approached. The girl took no notice, and was hiccupping into his shirt. "Who're you?" he asked.

"My name is Special Agent Gibbs. And you are?"

"I'm Peter Kirkland," the boy responded. "I'm from Sealand. This is Liesl Zwingli, from Liechtenstein." Hearing her name, the girl lifted her head, fixing green eyes on Gibbs. She took in his NCIS jacket and hat before she launched herself at him, crying harder.

Gibbs' arms went instinctively around her. "Hey, it's alright." he said soothingly. "You're safe now." Liesl shook her head and gazed up at him, her teary eyes wide and pleading.

"Please," she sobbed "My big _bruder_'s hurt! He's still in there! You have to help him!"

Stroking Liesl's hair comfortingly, Gibbs glanced at Peter for clarification.

"Her cousin Bernie." the boy explained. "She calls him her big brother."

Gibbs nodded. Still speaking in soothing tones, he said "Why don't you tell me what happened, Liesl?"

Nodding, Liesl took a shaky breath and began.

**Flashback**

_The second the three gunmen burst into the room, most of the capitals started to panic. Capitals have a deep-seated fear of being captured, and it kicked in now even though their cities were not threatened. Despite the gunmen's order not to move, everyone leapt to their feet and ran for the door. The sheer number of them pushed the three shocked gunmen out of it. Liesl found herself separated from Bernie, despite the iron grip he'd had on her hand. She frantically called out to him, unable to see her big _bruder_ through the taller capitals rushing around her._

_The gunmen got their wits back about them and managed to cut off some of the potential escapees. One of them spotted Liesl at the edge of the crowd by the door and started to advance on her._

_With a great cry of "_Nein_!", Bernie appeared out of the crowd and launched himself at the man, grabbing his gun. They wrestled with it for a minute, neither gaining the upper hand. Finally, Bernie raised his foot and kicked the gunman in the stomach, hard. As he did, there was a _Bang!_ and Liesl screamed as Bernie stumbled back, clutching his right shoulder, which was bleeding._

_While the gunman was winded, Bernie sprinted over to Liesl. A hand on her shoulder, he searched the escaping crowd. "Peter!" he shouted._

_Sealand turned at hearing his name, eyes widening when he saw Bernie's bleeding shoulder. With his good arm, the Swiss boy shoved Liesl toward him. "Make sure she's safe, or I'll kill you!"_

_Nodding, the micronation grabbed Liesl's hand and started running. The little capital resisted, trying to get back to Bernie, but the boy must have really been made of steel, because his grip remained firm. Sealand reached out and grabbed Sakura's hand, who in turn latched onto Bao Wang's braid, causing him to start cursing in Chinese._

_Liesl twisted around in time to see the gunman Bernie had kicked punch him in the jaw, causing him to fall. Kurt Edelstein caught him before he hit the ground. That was all she saw before they were running down the hallway._

**End Flashback**

Once Liesl (and Peter) had finished the story, her violent sobs started again, and she cried into Gibbs' shirt. He thought that Bernie was either very brave or very stupid, but it was obvious he cared about Liesl.

"Liesl!"

Gibbs turned, and Liesl lifted her head, to see two green-eyed blonds with similar chin-length hairstyles; a young man and a girl. The girl looked a lot like Liesl.

"_Mutti_!" Liesl exclaimed. "_Onkel_ Vash!" She rushed over to the girl, who embraced her. The young man eyes Gibbs warily.

Still teary-eyed, Liesl began to relate what had happened to the girl while the young man begrudgingly introduced himself as Liesl's uncle Vash Zwingli and the girl as his sister Lili.

Elsewhere, when it came to choosing between a pair of blond cousins, Tony quickly called dibs on the platinum blond, not only because he looked nicer, but also because his mother had _huge_ assets. He let Ziva deal with his scary-looking cousin and said cousin's equally scary-looking mother.

Their names were Dmytro Braginsky and Aleksandr Arlovskaya, respectively. A third cousin, Galina Braginsky, was missing, evidently still inside. Their story was rather simple; when the gunmen came in, Dmytro had grabbed Aleksandr's arm and run. What wasn't simple was their family. The each came from a different country-Dmytro was from Ukraine, while Aleksandr hailed from Belarus and apparently Galina was Russian-yet they claimed their parents were blood siblings. There was also the fact that Aleksandr's mother, Natalia, at one point said something about marrying the boys' uncle, Galina's father Ivan Braginsky, in a really creepy voice, making the man close to tears despite the fact that he had sent shivers down the agents' spines earlier. Dmytro's mother Yekaterina looked like she was _constantly_ close to tears.

Throughout it all Aleksandr had been growing increasingly restless. It peaked when he declared "That's it! I'm going back in to rescue Galina, and then we can get married…married…married…" Well, they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Dmytro reached out and stopped his cousin as he turned back toward the building. "Alek, no!" he said. "They have guns, you'll only get hurt or worse. Please let others handle it." When Aleksandr turned around, slightly calmer, he added "And please, you have to let marrying Galina go. She has a boyfriend."

It was almost comical how quickly Aleksandr deflated at that reminder. He crossed his arms and muttered "Fine," while looking like he would love to have said boyfriend have an accident. Dmytro smiled at Tony and Ziva apologetically.

"He was talking to me!"

"Are you stupid? He was _obviously_ talking to me!"

As the two curly brown-hair girls, one with green eyes and one with brown eyes, bickered, McGee wondered how he got into this situation. Oh, yeah, he had approached them and asked them to tell him what happened. They had answered at the same time, and it went downhill from their.

So far, the only useful information he had gotten from them was their names. The girl with brown eyes was named Leyla Adnan, and the green-eyed girl was Iris Karpusi. McGee didn't think he'd get any more out of them, as their fight had gone from being about who he had been talking to and was now just them shouting at each other ("I wish you'd been trapped in the conference room!" "Oh, yeah? Well, I wish they'd shot you in the _head_!").

As Leyla called the cat in Iris' arms "The ugliest thing I've ever seen!" and Iris shouted "You leave Lieutenant Kitty out of this!", McGee was ready to just walk away. Luckily for him, an Asian girl with chin-length black hair and brown eyes wearing a school uniform approached. She easily got their attention and held her hands out in front of her. She pretended to grasp her left thumb with her right hand and, after some "struggling", pull it off. Leyla and Iris stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as an Asian boy with braided brown hair in traditional-looking clothing led them away in different directions.

The girl bowed to McGee. "_Gomen nosai_-I mean, I'm sorry about them." She said. "They can't get along usually. It's actually surprising that they made it out.

"Why?" McGee asked.

"They kept tripping each other." The girl replied with a giggle. She bowed again. "My name is Sakura Honda, as you would order it. _Otou-san_-excuse me, my father-is the diplomat for Japan."

"Special Agent McGee, NCIS." McGee introduced himself.

Sakura tilted her head. "NCIS?" she questioned. Once he explained what it stood for and how the fact that the incident was taking place on a naval base placed it in their jurisdiction, she nodded in understanding.

The taking of statements was sped up when someone suggested that each teenager write down their experience. Soon a list had been made of all those who were now being held hostage; Ingrid and Hans Beillschmidt, from Germany; Marco Vargas, from Italy; Kurt Edelstein, from Austria; Bernie Zwingli, from Switzerland; George Jones, from America; Galina Braginsky, from Russia; Jean-Claude Williams, from Canada; Juan Carriedo, from Spain; Charles Kirkland, from England; and Pierre Bonnefoy, from France. Eleven hostages, one injury.

Soon the area emptied and the only ones remaining besides the agents and police were the parents of the kids still inside. The building had been evacuated, and it seemed that the gunmen had shut themselves and their hostages in the conference room. All that remained was to establish contact.

The gunmen beat them to it, slipping a CD under the building's front door.

**That's all for this chapter.**

**Awwwwww, Gibbs is great with kids, isn't he? Also, this is the debut of my Kiev (Ukraine) OC outside of _Ask the Capitals_, and my Minsk (Belarus) OC overall. I hope you enjoyed Dmytro and Aleksandr!**

**If you're confused as to why Sealand was at the Capital Meeting, well, he's popular there. No one acknowledges him at the World Meeting, so he hangs with the capitals, who think he's really cool since he's his own capital.**

**Thank you for reading, I love reviews!**

**Translations:**

**Bruder-brother**

**Nein-no**

**Mutti-Mom**

**Onkel-uncle**

**Gomen nosai-I'm sorry**

**Otou-san-father**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello~. I'm soooooooooooo sorry for the wait (I last updated in JUNE T^T). I got caught up in graduating and then a vacation and then in the summer my brain went kaput, plus I went to a con and got the autograph of Chris Cason, who plays HRE! Sorry. Anyway, this chapter we get a look at what's happening inside the conference room.**

**Time for review replies!**

**Don'tDreamItBeIt-Hah, your reviews are some of my favorites, and some of the longest I've ever gotten! I'll answer your questions as best I can. As for the Male!BelarusxFem!Russia, if you go to Facebook and look up a page called /Hetalia/, and just look at their wall photos, you'll find a couple pics that are cool, and were put up like, a few days ago. You'll have to keep in mind that they put up a LOT of pics every day, so they might be buried. As for character relationships, that should hopefully be answered in the chapter, and I'll put a list of pairings/familial relationships at the end. And yeah, if I kept too many there it **_**would**_** get crazy, plus I'd lose track of them. And you are the first person to get the reference in Kurt's name! You get a digital cookie! Rome…is in **_**South**_** Italy? Thank you! I have been wondering that for AGES! I didn't know where South Italy ended and North Italy began…so my dear Rome considers them both his dads, cause in my mind they didn't know whose he was. For the Germany one, well, that should also be answered in the chapter. But now that I think of the idea of Prussia having a daughter that acts just like him, I'm like "Why didn't I think of that?"**

**Randomly Here-Sorry about the cliffhanger! I'll try to do a little more of the Nation's reactions in the future. It will be interesting to see how they cope ;). Thanks for the constructive criticism, I'll try to do more character development. Yes, both Italies will be there, and Prussia because he is an awesome uncle!**

**Not Yet Knowing-You're right, that's exactly what they're gonna need!**

**Philadelphia-G.W. would like me to tell you "Rub it in my face, why don't you?" And haha, yes, I suppose so (not for me personally though).**

**Alright, on to the chapter! **

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, nor is NCIS. The capitals are, though.**

In the conference room, the eleven captive capitals sat huddled against a wall. The table had been pushed to the side, and all the blinds drawn. The gunmen were conversing by the door. One of them glanced at their hostages.

"Close that blind!"

Flinching, G.W. let the gap he had opened with his fingers snap shut. When the gunman turned away, he glared at his back before facing the others.

Marco Vargas' head was bent over his clasped hands, which held a rosary. Next to him, Jean-Claude Williams had a hand on his shoulder, occasionally glancing at the red mark on his face, which he had earned when his temper ignited and he started to cuss out the gunmen. Kurt Edelstein's head was bent like Marco's, but it was over Bernie Zwingli's injured shoulder, the Swiss boy's teeth gritted in pain and a bruise blossoming on his jaw as the Austrian probed his wound. Charlie Kirkland and Pierre Bonnefoy leaned against each other, their fingers intertwined, while Juan Carriedo sat with his knees drawn to his chest. Galina Braginsky seemed calm, but the others knew her well enough to see the way her shoulders were set and know that she was the opposite. One of her arms was around Hans Beillschmidt's shoulders, who leaned into her while clasping the hand of his twin sister, Ingrid. The ten of them were seated to G.W.'s right, with Ingrid right next to him and Marco the furthest away.

"What's going on outside?" Jean-Claude whispered.

"They called in more cops to take statements," G.W. replied, taking Ingrid's other hand. She too looked deceptively calm, while her brother was openly scared. "And NCIS is here."

"What's NCIS?" Ingrid asked.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services." G.W. explained. "We're on a Navy base right now, so this is in their jurisdiction." The others gave nods of understanding. He leaned his head back. "How's Bernie's shoulder, Kurt?"

"Through and through," Kurt responded, "I don't think it hit any major vessels-the bleeding's almost stopped-and it seems like all the bones are intact." He picked up G.W.'s white button-up shirt, which the American had donated to him for such a purpose, and began tearing it into strips to bind Bernie's shoulder.

As Kurt worked, Bernie asked "Is Liesl safe?"

"I think I saw her out there, she looked alright."

"_Gut_." Bernie looked profoundly more relaxed with that knowledge. There was silence for a bit, and G.W. studied his companions.

There was Ingrid, his girlfriend, who had shoulder length blond hair and blue eyes. She was a tough girl, and achieved that look with a black T-shirt, camouflage pants, combat boots, and a steely gaze. G.W. was fairly certain she had a pistol hidden in one of the pockets of her pants. Hans had a softer look. His silver-streaked blond hair framed his face in choppy bangs and his blue eyes didn't hold as much steel as his sister's. He wore a simple red long-sleeved shirt and jeans-he didn't care what he wore as long as it had long sleeves, no matter the weather. He was dating Galina, who had dark blond hair that went mid-back and always dressed warm. Judging by the sadistic gleam in her violet eyes, she was imagining what Russia would do to the gunmen if they were ever unlucky enough to fall into his hands. Juan noticed it and began edging away from her, green eyes wide. The tan Spanish boy wore a green T-shirt with a tomato on it, and his long, curly brown hair was tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Marco's brown hair was also curly, and had his eyes been open one would have seen that they were amber. If anyone wondered what the Roman Empire looked like as a teenager, the one could just show them a picture of Marco. He also wore jeans and a T-shirt-pretty much all of them did, even brown-haired, violet-eyed Kurt, who had the stuffiest, most aristocratic father out of all of them. Jean-Claude, with his chin-length, wavy blond hair and violet eyes, was Marco's boyfriend, and Ingrid and Hans were his stepsiblings.

Pierre was and exception to the T-shirt rule; he always wore the latest fashions. The French boy's wavy blond hair came to the tops of his ears, and his blue eyes were fixated on a picture frame that had light reflecting off of it. Charlie, his boyfriend, noticed this and rolled his green eyes. The blond Brit decided against snapping Pierre out of his shiny-object-induced trance; it would spare him from worrying about their situation. Noticing G.W.'s eyes on him, he cocked a dark, kind-of-big-but-bordering-on-normal-sized eyebrow, studying his stepbrother back. The American could easily be spotted in a crowd with his gravity-defying blond hair that had a pair of sunglasses nestled in it and his bright blue eyes. G.W. gave him his usual bright, sunny smile, which didn't reach his eyes this time. _He's putting on a brave front,_ Charlie realized, before inwardly snorting. _Well, most of us are_.

G.W. turned his gaze toward their captors, whom he had dubbed Shorty, Beanpole, and Leader (even he could admit that the nicknames were lame, but hey, could he really be expected to come up with original, descriptive monikers under pressure?). As the names suggested, Beanpole was tall and skinny, so much so that it was almost unbelievable that he was the one who had gone toe-to-toe with Bernie earlier, while Shorty was small and chubby. Leader somehow managed to be in the middle of their builds.

At that moment, the gunmen's discussion seemed to have finished, and they started towards their captives. It was immediately picked up upon by those who weren't otherwise occupied (this was pretty much everyone except Marco and Pierre; Kurt had finished with Bernie's shoulder), and they all tensed, not sure what was coming.

Leader's cold eyes surveyed them from beneath his ski mask (it was almost laughably stereotypical-all three wore black clothes and ski masks) while Beanpole and Shorty hefted their guns menacingly (why oh _why_ did they have to use M-16's?) behind him.

Their blood ran cold when Leader's eyes came to rest on Hans, and froze when he gestured to Shorty and said "He'll do."

To G.W., it seemed to happen in slow motion. As Shorty stepped forward and seized Hans' arm, yanking him to his feet, both Ingrid and Galina reacted.

"_Nein_!"

"_Nyet_!"

Everything sped back up at that. Before anyone could register it, the barrel of Beanpole's gun was pointed at Galina's face, keeping her from moving, while Ingrid had tackled Shorty (Marco's head snapped up at that), causing him to lose his grip on her brother. Shorty's gun went flying, and Ingrid managed to get out her own and level it at him. Shorty froze, and-

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

All eyes fell on Leader. In the commotion, he had managed to grab Hans when Ingrid's attack on Shorty left him off balance. Leader now held both of his arms behind his back with one hand, while the other held his gun to Hans' temple.

"Put it down right now," he shouted, "or I'll blow his brains out!"

Ingrid stood frozen and in that moment everyone was painfully reminded how poorly the twins fought separately. Hans knew all of the right moves but often lacked the guts to perform, while Ingrid had the guts but usually fought on instinct alone. If they couldn't combine Hans' brain with Ingrid's brawn, they could do nothing.

"_Ingrid, please_," Hans pleaded, reverting to his native German in his terror. "_Do as he says_!"

"_B-bruder_…" Ingrid said helplessly.

Leader wrenched Hans' arms, causing him to cry out in pain. "What the hell did you just say?"

"_Bitte, schwester_!" Hans cried.

G.W. sucked in a breath. _They only speak English!_ he thought, as the gun slipped from Ingrid's shaking fingers. Shorty climbed to his feet and secured her arms. None of them moved-they hardly dared to _breathe_-as Beanpole, following a signal, left Galina to go to Leader's side. After some quick, whispered words, Beanpole stepped forward, training his gun on Ingrid.

Once he was sure Ingrid would not retaliate, Leader began to back up to the door. Each step he took seemed to suck air from the room, so that by the time he reached it they may as well have been in a vacuum. The whole time, Ingrid watched with wide eyes and an anguished face.

One step.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

It wasn't until Leader started trying to bump the door open with his elbow that the silence was broken by Ingrid's screams. She threatened, cursed, and pleaded-all in German. The others, being able to understand her perfectly, paled at what she was saying, as it showed exactly what was going on in her mind.

None of them had been present at the twins' "birth", but they all knew the story of how they were separated after only a few moments of existence. Based on what Ingrid was saying, they knew that she was having a flashback to that day. She wasn't seeing a masked man taking her brother somewhere unknown-rather, she was seeing Russia doing it.

It made them all feel sick, and really showed the truth in what Marco had said earlier, the words that had earned him a slap in the face.

"You don't know who the **** you're dealing with!"

It was horribly true that their captors didn't know just _who_ they had in their grasp, and at the same time it was a bit of a blessing.

They didn't know that they were dragging East Berlin away, while West Berlin screamed for his release.

They didn't know that Moscow was looking at them with murderous eyes, imagining her father beating them to a pulp.

They didn't know that Washington D.C. wanted so badly to do something, but didn't want to risk either of them getting hurt.

They didn't know that as Rome witnessed his stepsibling's plight, he was torn between crying and surrendering like his Northern father and letting curses fly while headbutting them like his Southern one. They didn't know that Ottawa was ready to restrain him at a moment's notice.

They didn't know that London was using enormous self-restraint not to use a spell that would turn them into puddles of slime (it would likely blow up the building at the same time).

They didn't know that Paris was still blissfully unaware due to a glint on a picture frame.

They didn't know that Madrid wished he had his father's axe.

They didn't know that Vienna was so angry that he would willingly attack them with one of his instruments.

And they didn't know how close Bern was to risking a bullet to his other shoulder.

In this case, what they didn't know was very likely to hurt them.

Temporarily safe in his lack of knowledge, Leader was fed up with Ingrid. "Shut her up!"

Beanpole immediately obliged, slamming the butt of his gun into the side of Ingrid's head. G.W. leaned forward and just barely caught her as she crumpled to the floor, unconscious, earning a gun barrel in his direction for the movement.

Satisfied, Leader was finally able to get the door open and pulled Hans out of the room, ignoring the boy's gasping, ragged breathing.

The slamming of the door finally jolted Pierre out of his reverie. "_Désolé_!" he cried, before looking at the others in confusion. "…What happened? Where's Hans?"

Despite their predicament, and what had just happened, Pierre's familiar confusion caused them to laugh a little, though it was quickly subdued by the seriousness of the situation. As Charlie patiently got his boyfriend caught up, the others went back to their thoughts (or in Marco's case, prayers). G.W. carefully checked Ingrid's head out. Thankfully it wasn't bleeding, but there was going to be a big lump.

He sighed in relief, holding her close and sharing a knowing look with Galina. They had seen the twins at their worst, and had hoped that it could be kept in the past. Obviously that was not to be.

G.W. closed his eyes. An idea was forming in his mind, an idea that could hopefully get them out of this mess, but he made a conscious effort not to say anything so long as Hans was gone and Ingrid was unconscious. All he could do was wait.

**Done! I have to say, that scene with dragging Hans away gave me a lot of trouble, cause I wanted it to be pretty dramatic. Hopefully I did a good job.**

**Pairings:**

**East Berlin/Moscow**

**West Berlin/Washington D.C.**

**London/Paris**

**Ottawa/Rome**

**Those are all the ones that are pre-established.**

**Family ties:**

**West and East Berlin-twins**

**Rome, West Berlin, and East Berlin-stepsiblings**

**Washington D.C. and Ottawa-cousins**

**Washington D.C. and London-stepsiblings, therefore London and Ottawa are cousins, obviously.**

**Pretty sure that's it for those.**

**Translations:**

**Nein/Nyet-no**

**Bruder-brother**

**Bitte, schwester!-Please, sister!**

**Désolé-sorry.**

**Please review!**


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